666
by The Real Damien Thorn
Summary: Damien's having a sweet sixteen, not by his choice, of course. Maybe the embarrassment will all be worth it in the end.


" _Haaaaaaaappy birthday to you_ -"

"Dad, stop it."

" _Happy birthday to you_ -"

"Stop it right now."

" _Happy birthday, dear_ _Damien_..."

Damien rolls his eyes.

" _Happy birthday to you_!"

"Are you finished?"

Satan grins. "No, I told you we're doing things right this year since last year was such a _complete_ disaster."

"Because you forgot me up on Earth! Again! Just for your stupid boyfriend Sadd-"

"I told you not to mention that name in this layer of Hell! And we're doing things right this year!" Satan shouts, pulling the blankets off his son. "I talked to a damned soul yesterday to get references on what a real birthday is, and he said that a lot of kids turning your age have something called a 'Sweet Sixteen'." The fallen angel smiles. "Doesn't that sound exciting! I already got some supplies downstairs! Me and Chris are gonna set them up."

Damien pulls the blankets back over him and groans. He hates Chris just as much as he hates Saddam. " _I_ plan on sleeping all day, so have fun with that."

"I'll come up to get you when it's ready, dear." The giant red beast skips out of the room, humming a happy tune. His son sighs angrily and pulls his pillow over his head, desperately trying to fall asleep. He remembers, against his will, last year's attempt at a birthday party.

 _"Where is my favorite belt? Where is it? I can't face the demons out there without it! Oh, hide me!" Satan seemed ready to cry, fanning his eyes so his eyeliner wouldn't run. Damien had handed him a tissue in disgust and glared at the large picture of Brad Paisley above his father's bed._

 _"Dad, I don't think they care-"_

 _"Go look under that lamp, son, it has to be there. It just has to be!"_

 _"I'm not sure that's even possible-"_

 _"Just look! Do it for Daddy!" Satan blew his nose on the tissue and threw it in an already-full trashcan. Damien rolled his eyes and picked up the lamp, scanning the small and_ empty _space beneath it._

 _"Nope."_

 _Satan let out another wail and threw himself on his bed, where his belt appeared out of a wrinkle in the blankets. "Here it is! Oh thank me!" He clicked it on and smiled._

 _"Satan be praised," Damien muttered, setting the lamp back down angrily. "Are you finished being drama-_

 _"Now we have to go get your cake from Earth."_

 _"I don't want a cake, Dad, I-"_

 _"Oh, you'll love it! I had them put little pink sprinkles around the butterflies-"_

 _"_ What _?!"_

 _"And a Ferrari right in the middle. You'll love it, Dami." The bearded beast grinned and grabbed his son, heading up to Earth._

 _Only minutes later there was a loud and tear-soaked argument about how the butterflies weren't the right shade of yellow, and Damien had quickly made his way out of the bakery, sitting on the curb and throwing rocks at passing cars. He vaguely heard his dad's archaic phone ring, and Satan's voice went from painfully sad to estatic._

 _"Oh, I'll be right there, Saddam!" And Damien had gotten up to leave, but when he turned toward the store, his father was already gone._

 _"Son of a bitch."_

Damien curses, remembering how he had slept in an alley that night, not yet knowing how to apparate back to Hell. Throughout his time up on Earth, Damien had mostly slept and brooded, until his dad showed up a _week_ later, crying and sobbing about how Saddam had broken his heart. Again. He seemed to have forgotten all about Damien's birthday, but that was alright with the antichrist. He had vowed to never have another one if he could help it...

"Damien, it's ready!" his father's cheery voice calls up the stairs.

"I'm not coming down!"

"Sure you are, we got it all ready for you!"

"Still not coming down."

He hears heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and jumps from the bed, moving to slam his door. Satan sticks his hoof in before it's shut and shoves it open with a grin. "Everything's ready, my wicked baby boy! Come on down."

"I'd rather jump into the Lake of Fire."

Satan laughs and throws Damien over his shoulder, chuckling as he hurries down the steps. "Good one, son! Now, we have all the demons already sitting at the table, and the cake is already lit, waiting for you to blow out the candles-"

"I'm not doing that."

"-and Chris made finger sandwiches that are _to-die-for_ -"

"Chris can suck my balls."

"-and we also have two damned souls joining us tonight!"

"...Who?"

"That kid that always dies and comes back, and someone who claims he knows you!"

" _Who_?"

"Uh, uh, what's his name again?" Satan snaps his fingers and sets Damien down at the bottom of the stairs. "Chip? Skip? ...Jason?"

"Is it Pip?"

"Pip!" The devil claps.

"Dad, I don't _want_ them there! I didn't even ask for this stupid birthday party, I hate birthday parties! My nanny killed herself that one year-"

"You're having a sweet sixteen and that's final! This day isn't all about you, Damien! Chris and I put in a lot of work to set this up and-"

"Alright, I'll make an appearance, just shut up about Chris!" Satan smiles and slips a tiara onto Damien's head as he leads his son toward the party room, which was built sometime in the seventies when the devil had gotten into disco.

The antichrist glares at the table of demons staring at him, wishing him an unhappy birthday and fluttering their wicked wings at him. Satan leads him to the head of the table, and two blondes sit on either side of him.

"Hey, Damien, what's up? Nice crown," Kenny says, snickering and pulling food onto his plate. "Sandwich?"

The charcoal-haired teen growls and smacks it out of the other immortal's hand before turning and scowling at Pip. "Why are _you_ here?"

"Oh, well, I was killed by Barbara-"

"I know that, you moron! I mean why are you _here_?"

Pip smiles. "Your father invited me! Isn't that nice of him! I've never been to a birthday party before, let alone a sweet sixteen!"

Damien grumbles and looks away from him, scowling as his dad pushes a hot pink cake with flowers in front of him. The candles are already melted down to an inch. "Quick, sing!" He puts his head down to hide the blush creeping on his face as a thousand gruff voices and two soft ones belt out a horrible version of the birthday song. "Now blow out the candles, Damien!"

"Bite me."

Kenny and Pip take the liberty of blowing the candles out for him and the demons cheer as his dad starts cutting slices. The two blondes at his side seem to be enjoying themselves, eating the cake happily. Damien watches Pip for a while, taking in his happy look with curiosity.

"Are you sure you don't want a bite, Damien?" the orange-hooded blonde to his right asks. "It's _chocolate..._ " The antichrist grudgingly takes a slice and shoves it in his mouth.

"Is it over yet?"

"Not at all!" Pip cheers. "We still have to give you your presents! ...I'm afraid I couldn't get you anything, but I have somehing planned for you later." This peaks Damien's interest.

"What?"

"It's a surprise, silly! I can't tell you!"

Kenny smirks. "I can give you a blow jo-"

"Say any more and I'll kill you." The amber-eyed boy shudders. "Twice. I'll make you _double-dead_." The perverted blonde smirks but shuts up.

"Here, son, this one's from me!" Satan hands him a surprisingly well-wrapped gift. He sighs at the rainbow wrapping paper and rips it open.

"A pony...?"

"It's Rainbow Dash!" the devil gushes, handing him five more gifts. "And here are the other characters! Don't you watch My Little Pony?"

" _No_!?"

Pip snuggles the pegasus. "She's my favorite character!"

"Kill me now."

"Why don't you take your friends up to your room to play?" Satan grins and turns to address the other demons. "Well, now it's time for the _real_ party! Where's my Chris?"

Damien facepalms and exits the room, the two blondes following after him with his gifts. "Well, that was predicable."

"That was so fun!" Pip cries. "Much better than Eric's parties, I bet!"

"It would have been better with a Ferris wheel..." Kenny mumbles. "Hey, you don't know how to conjure one up, do you?"

"Of course, because when the final battle comes, we're going to want a _freaking Ferris wheel_ to make it more interesting, won't we?!"

"Alright, jeez, you don't have to be so sarcastic, Princess."

Damien sighs and shakes his head, letting his tiara fall off. He pushes open the door to his room and heads for his bed. "Whatever, just...please don't talk for a while."

"I wish the party wasn't over," Pip says, sitting down and pulling a satin pillow toward him, playing with the thread. "What other events go on at birthdays?"

Kenny falls next to Damien, almost on his lap, and the antichrist scoots away, toward Pip. "How the hell should I know?" the dark-haired teen says, glancing away hatefully. He catches a smirk on the perverted blonde's face. "What could it possibly be _now_?"

"That BJ's still up for grabs if you want-"

"No, I do not want it! Get that through your thick head!" Kenny grins.

"Can I at least give you a birthday spanking?"

"You can get out of my room," Damien offers, groaning and falling back against his pillows. "I hate parties. I hope I never go to another one as long as I live."

"Are you even alive, dude?"

"I thought I told you to leave..."

"And I thought I was coming to a _real_ party." The middle McKormick sibling stands up. "I'm going back downstairs and getting a drink. You're no fun anymore."

"I was never fun."

"Whatever."

Kenny exits the room and Damien smiles. "Finally." Pip grins. "What?"

"I can give you your present now."

"I don't want one." But he keeps an eye on Pip for any sudden movements. The long-haired teen inches his way closer to the amber-eyed boy.

"I'm sure you _do_." Pip hesitates slightly before leaning in toward Damien's face. "It's your birthday for crying out loud..." He moves closer into Damien's personal space, and the antichirst doesn't know whether to back away or move toward the blonde.

"I..." He ends up backing up, turning his head away. "You didn't have to...get me anything. If you're only doing it because you don't have anything to offer...maybe it's best if you left."

Pip rolls his eyes. "I'm not giving you this gift because I _have_ to, Damien. I _want_ to." He moves so he's back in Damien's line of sight. "So let me give it to you."

The raven bites his lip in thought, averting his eyes. "I..."

Soft lips press against his mouth. Pip's eyes are closed, so Damien closes his, too. His hand must have a mind of its own, as it runs through thick blonde hair, tangling its fingers in it. He feels a hand ghost over his chest, clutching the chain that hangs around his neck.

Pip pulls away slowly. "Did you like it?" He plays with the necklace. Damien tugs the long hair playfully.

"It didn't see like it was enough..." He smirks. "I _am_ the antichrist, after all. Don't I deserve more?"

Pip wrinkles his nose cutely and smiles at the birthday boy. "Well, it _is_ your Sweet Sixteen. I guess I could give you _another_ gift."

Damien chuckles almost darkly. "Then happy birthday to me."


End file.
